


Care

by magicpatyesz



Series: gaters gonna gate | drabbles [4]
Category: Stargate - All Media Types, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24216058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicpatyesz/pseuds/magicpatyesz
Summary: Lieutenant Aiden Ford, a weapons expert, one of the youngest members of the expedition to another galaxy, is only rarely forced to face his own demons. When he does, he finds that they're human-shaped; like the distrustful worry in Carson's eyes, like the grim desperation that Sheppard raised his gun with, like the complete disgust in McKay's frown, like he is not Aiden Ford anymore, but an alien, a wraith, an enemy.
Series: gaters gonna gate | drabbles [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1129598
Kudos: 3





	Care

**Author's Note:**

> this is my entry for the stargate fanfic exchange brightclam hosted over at tumblr dot com! apparently i can't write anything but introspective, angsty dithering these days, so i hereby formally apologise.

Aiden thinks of it, sometimes, what it could have been like. You know - what would have happened if he went through his military years never having heard of the stargate? What would have happened if he didn't fall into the sea clutching a dead wraith to his chest? What would've happened if he believed the lies Beckett told him? He's in another galaxy now, he's at a wholly different point of his life, entirely removed from these possibilities, so the thoughts themselves are pointless, Aiden knows. He can never quite stop wondering though, especially in idle moments where there's nothing left to do but sit and wait, but oh, he'd like it to stop. 

Back at the SGC, things never were this complicated. No life-sucking aliens, no messed-up command structure, and not nearly as many mental breaks as in his two years in the Pegasus Galaxy. Out here, it's them versus the world, and Aiden knows it's because he took that mentality to heart that he's survived this long.

One just has to look at that runner, Ronon Dex to see what he means. Aiden's pretty sure that taking Ronon in will bite the Atlanteans in the ass - the Lord knows that he wouldn't let himself back in, and he's only been out in the "real" Pegasus for a year or so. Ronon Dex is a ticking bomb, and they're sitting on it all happy-like, mindless of the destruction he will inevitably cause. 

Then again, they were at least cautious when it came to him, Aiden frowns, and going by the way Beckett and Elizabeth treated him, he can deduce that there were some measures against Ronon, at least at first. Still, it has his blood boiling, the way they left him no choice and cornered him, it makes him bare his teeth how it was like they suddenly lost all trust, but now welcome that madman with open arms. He's angry, and of course he's angrier at Ronon Dex, using his loved ones to his own ends before he inevitably leaves them when he should be watching their backs. Scratch that; Aiden's furious.

That doesn't mean he doesn't care.

There have been news, through the proverbial grapevine of the galaxy, of the Atlantean recon teams making friends and enemies in equal measure. There have been news of missions, failed and successful both, led by a man with tousled hair, with a squeaky scientist at his side and a solemn Athosian on the other, all backed up by tall, dark and brooding. Aiden hates it, from as deep as his soul goes that he can never not listen to those news, he hates that he cares, that he's interested in how his people are doing, even as they'd betrayed him.

It is on those nights that he reaches for the enzyme and lets it take over, because there is something truly soothing about not having to think on such a complex level. Wraith emotions, for the most part, are much simpler, and he takes refuge in them when the human overwhelms him.

Lieutenant Aiden Ford, a weapons expert, one of the youngest members of the expedition to another galaxy, is only rarely forced to face his own demons. When he does, he finds that they're human-shaped; like the distrustful worry in Carson's eyes, like the grim desperation that Sheppard raised his gun with, like the complete disgust in McKay's frown, like he is not Aiden Ford anymore, but an alien, a wraith, an enemy.

And despite it all, he's here, and he cares.

'Here' is the scattered shrubbery he's concealed himself in, where he's spent just over two hours, crouched behind the stargate on this backwater planet, just because his contact swore up and down that Sheppard's team will be coming through.

That, you know, is the reason for all this damn reminiscence, too, and Aiden's hand twitches towards his flask to drown out all the human overthinking, to have the wraith single-mindedness kick in. He stalls the urge, though, because he'll need a clear head for this: a clear shot at Ronon Dex, the stranger they trusted when they couldn't trust one of their own.

It's not even that he has personal issues with the whole damn thing, it's just that Ronon Dex is a huge, walking target that'll surely bring the wraith down upon Atlantis - and if not that, then it'll be his rage that hurts the Atlanteans. As much as they've betrayed Aiden, they're still his people, people precious to his heart, and he wants to protect them, even when they don't know they need it. They don't even have to know that it was him. 

So he's here, crouched in the shrubbery, itching for his chance. Of course, he's also itching in the literal sense, because it's just his luck to have picked the wrong sort of bush, but that's beside the point.

Aiden shakes his head a little to clear his thoughts, and the scars on the side of his face smart as the blood rushes into them. He's realised a while ago that those are probably permanent, and he can't say he's made his peace with that, but that's also beside the point, because the chevrons light up, and the stargate opens.

His team steps through, clearly in the middle of a conversation started before stepping into the event horizon, careless of the danger they are in. Aiden's only really a danger to one of them, sure, but looking at them now makes him realise that the death of Ronon Dex would hurt the rest of his team as well.

That's… a staggering thought, and as much as he wouldn't want to dwell on it, the what-ifs and could-have-beens crop up again, louder than usual, and there's a voice in the back of his head that sounds like his grandmother, who always had a little extra love to give, and his head hurts, and in the middle of it all, he understands that this is not anger, it is sadness and desperation that has him reeling.

Aiden watches them go. Takes a breath, then another. He looks at the way Ronon rests his hand on Sheppard's shoulder for a moment, looks at the encouraging smile Teyla gives McKay, and he aches for the future he's never had with them. Aiden relaxes his hand, lifts his finger from the trigger, and sits back into the godforsaken, itchy bush.

It's a painful realisation, understanding for the first time that it's not only Carson and Elizabeth and Sheppard who've made mistakes, but him too, it's painful to think that he could've gone back to heal if he wasn't so stubborn in his enzyme-induced enlightenment.

Aiden thinks of it, sometimes, who he could've been - someone with quiet strength and bubbly cheerfulness, someone who cares and protects, and he closes his eyes in a silent eulogy for the self that he'll never see, for the twenty-five year old kid he'll never get to be.


End file.
